1: April is the cruellest month
AN: Trying out some new stuff, formatting and writing styles mostly. This fic takes place in the Fallout Universe, but won't really need a prior understanding of the video game franchise to understand. It's not really a crossover, consider it more like an AU fanfic. Story is pretty original.
April 19, 2161: 8:30 PM
Vault-72: Soryu residence
"What do you mean 'married'?" A girl stood from her place on the couch and yelled. Her parents, father and stepmother stood opposite.
Her mother looked sorry almost. "Honey, I know it's on sudden but—"
"I don't care if you would've told me this years ago! You can't choose this for me!" Angry, indignant, Asuka held her ground, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.
"Look, Asuka, it's all about genetic diversity. Preventing inbreeding, you can understand that; can't you?" Her father, one of the leading scientists in the Vault, tried to reason with her. "It's not like this has to right away, it's just a betrothal. You won't have to worry about this for years."
The girl shook her head, "I'm worrying about this now. This is my life! I'm not some sort of doll or toy you can play around with, I have a life, dreams of my own!" She'd never be a doll. Never. Death was preferable. The choice was her's wasn't it?
"You're almost fifteen, Asuka. It's time to stop thinking about yourself," her father said, "don't you remember what the Overseer said at the last meeting? Population is at an all time low. Birth rates need to meet certain quotas. That's how we can maximize production and minimize waste. Think of the bigger picture."
The girl blinked. Were those tears blurring her vision? "I don't care about any of that! You're throwing away my life… what do you think mom would say?" Asuka took a deliberate stab at her father. The situation was certainly Hamlet-esque. Kyoko Zeppelin Soryu had died, her husband, Asuka's father had married her sister. Strange, uncomfortable. Almost incest, but not quite.
Sympathy fled from the pretender-mother's face, anger filled in. "I'm your mother now Asuka. I've been your mother for almost ten years now," the said the pretender, "Paul Allen is fine match; you should feel happy that he has offered to marry you."
The breath left her, as if she had fallen on her back, winded. Allen? Paul Allen? "You can't! He's twenty years older than me!" Paul Allen, thirty five years old. Fat, stinking rich, Paul Allen. Was that her future? To marry and lie with a man over twice her age? It occurred to her then. "...why Paul Allen?"
"He was deemed a of good genetic stock; and distantly related enough so as to prevent inbreeding," said her father quickly, "when he was asked, he said he would had no problems with it."
The situation was suspicious. Her father was the a member of the Genetic Stability department in Vault-72. What were the odds that his own daughter would find a potential husband so quickly? Especially one so rich and willing.
"Is he paying you?" Asuka's tone turned inquisitive, angry. One of Isabella and Ferdinand's Red Priests; centuries removed. Both parents had shame enough to look guilty. Oh, no fucking way. She ran to her room, screaming: "I hate you, I hate you."
April 20, 2161: 5:30 AM
Vault-72: Shinji's room
A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.
Shinji Ikari woke up screaming, mirroring the angry war-cries of the rockets, missiles, bombs that had fallen just over eighty four years ago. He had been having dreams of late. Visions of fire turning the earth to ash, glass; dust to dust. People dead, dying with not even an opportunity to make peace with the callous God above. Flesh feeding flames, bone into charcoal dust floating on the hot irradiated winds whipped up by nuclear explosions transforming the landscape into black, twisted glass. Shinji woke up screaming. Ten million degrees celsius. Man made stars exploding with violence enough to shock a boy into action nearly a century later.
"Attention Vault-72, water rations will decrease by an additional litre per person per day starting this week. Please see the Overseer for additional information."
The boy sat up in his bed, breathing heavily. A sticky mild sweat had broken, staining his pyjamas and sheets with light moisture. Not the first time nightmares had come to visit. The tritium clock sitting on his nightstand read the time as five in the morning, quite a bit earlier than Shinji had wanted to wake up. His school day didn't start for another two hours.
Sad as it was, Shinji was one of the few children in Vault-72 to live alone. Waking up to an empty room was something he was used to. He sighed, scanned his bare, lonely living quarters and pushed the warm sheets away; he had never been able to fall back asleep after nightmares.
He flipped a switch, wincing at the sudden intrusion of light. I'll just cook some breakfast, finish some of the homework I didn't get a chance to do… maybe I'll see her today.
The orphan boy didn't have many friends in school, his self-effacing nature had always been a topic of amusement for the bullies in class to capitalize on and had led to his ostracization But despite this isolations; he was in love. There was a girl. One Asuka Langley Soryu. Red haired, confident, beautiful.
But for the moment, it didn't matter. Young Ikari did not know, but today was to be a fateful day. Something would change.
The same day: 8:00 AM
Vault-72: Class 2-A
"The night the bombs fell through the sky…" the teacher droned on and on. An old man, hard of hearing and too decrepit to be intimidating, spoke while writing on the board; oblivious to the troubles plaguing his classroom.
A rubber band struck Shinji across the arm, stinging even through the blue and yellow vault suit he wore.
"Oww…" he rubbed at the spot he had been hit, whispering his displeasure, "please stop…"
The boy to his right smiled smugly, content at having bothered Shinji, and turned back to the front of the classroom; aping attention. It had always been like this. Bullies had always picked on Shinji, for being smaller than the other boys, for not having many friends, for living alone.
Shinji scanned the classroom, looking for red in a sea of black and brown and blonde. Asuka… He had seen the girl before class had started, puffy eyed, cheeks red; had she been crying? No, she'd never cry, she's so strong… Now he could only see the back of her head, hunched over a desk on the far side of the room. Soft, narrow shoulders moved up and down rhythmically. Laughing? Crying? He didn't know anymore. He hoped, wanted, dreamed of her. The pale girl, skin of ivory and hair of fire; some sort of modern siren. Of course, Asuka didn't even know that Shinji existed. That was what hurt the most. Being a nonentity, having no one care enough to associate with him. I've been no one for so long…
"Aida?" Shinji whispered to the boy on his left. Aida Kensuke was a strange kid; considered by the majority of the class to be of a social class even lower than Shinji the Orphan. Short, bespeckled, Aida Kensuke; a nerd obsessed with the world outside of the Vault.
Aida responded, leaning over behind the stack of books on his desk. "What's up Shinji?" The two outcasts had become something close to friends, but not quite. A bond forged from the cruelty of their peers.
"Do you know why Asuka seems so sad?" he asked while turning his head from side to side, making sure no one was listening into their conversation.
"Soryu? Why do you want to know about her?"
Shinji blushed and put his head down. "It's nothing, just forget it…" The color of shame, flavor of embarrassment.
Aida pushed up his glasses, snickering all the while. "You have a crush on her?"
Shinji blushed even redder and sank lower into his seat, mortified, "it's not like that… I'm just worried about her…"
"I heard that she and her parents have been arguing. I don't know much else," the boy giggled to himself and shook his head, "honestly, why Asuka?"
The same day: 12:00 PM
Vault-tec Headquarters: Washington D.C.
A computer terminal worked at furious speed, sending long dead signals through the desolate land. A door opened. A man smiled. The world ended all over again.
The same day: 12:01 PM
Vault-72: Office of the Overseer
"What the fuck do you mean the Vault is open? That's absolutely, I mean absolutely impossible!" a woman, young and pretty stood in a dead panic. Her small red jacket stained with coffee spilled in the commotion; Misato Katsuragi didn't care. "Even I can't open the Vault doors! The only possible way for this to have happened—" Cold dread. A realization. An epiphany so terrible… So terrible that it ought to be impossible.
"You don't think he's alive?" the purple haired Overseer whispered, "the former Overseer I mean. You don't think…"
Ritsuko Akagi, trusted advisor and longstanding friend of the Overseer, nodded grimly. "You said it yourself. There's no possible way for the Vault to open on it's own. You don't even have the authorization code to do that anymore." That much was known at least. A previous Overseer had taken several important documents with him on his departure from the Vault ten years ago. At least he had closed the door on his way out.
Misato wanted a beer badly, but as Overseer she had to maintain a clear mind during time of crisis. She couldn't afford to imbibe at the moment. "Fuck! It doesn't matter why the Vault is open. At least not yet. We've got to run some damage control. I'm calling a meeting. You can work on getting the door closed again." Misato rambled, if they couldn't get the Vault closed… That would be the end of everything. The safety of her home, Vault-72, the people under her protection… it would all be over.
Ritsuko pulled up a chair and sat. Head in hands, brushing hair from her head. "You know I can't do that," there was silence in the room, the dread of responsibility sewed lips shut.
"...what are we going to do then?" the Overseer paced the room, "I can't just go out there and tell them that there's nothing we to be done about this. We have to get that door closed. No matter what."
The computer terminal made a noise. Some sort of notification was coming through.
"Oh god," Ritsuko leaned over and opened the message that had been sent, "it's from him." Misato walked over quickly and read along:
To the Overseer of Vault-72:
I hope those long years of my absence has not been too difficult for you. Undoubtedly you will, by now, have discovered that all is not well. Your comfortable home, open to the elements, the radiation and monsters of the Wasteland. The horror, the horror. Yes, I am well aware of horror. The cruelty of responsibility.
But despite what you may believe, or think to know of the Wasteland, the world above the little Heaven that is Vault-72 is not an irradiated desert full of dust and devoid of life. The last part is rather untrue. Is the fact that I have survived thirteen years in this Hell not proof?
There is life on the surface, life more bright and angry than you know. It is no use describing it to you. You who will never leave your gilded casket. How fearsome must the world seem to you! Undoubtedly you are scrambling for a way to enthrone yourself atop your cairn once more. Once more to stopper yourself in the vital safety of your home.
Here I bring you answer. My son, Shinji Ikari is your salvation. Bring him to the surface. Tell him to search for me. I will know when this is done, and I will bury you once more.
A father must see his son, must he not?
"Call the meeting Ritsuko." Misato was sweating now, moving toward the door. There was an expression of acrid anger and reluctance and duty. She now knew what she had to do.
"Where are you going? This is your job!" said the doctor angrily, "don't tell me you're avoiding your duty now!"
Misato shook her head, not looking back. "This is my job. I'm going to break the news."
The same day: 12:30 PM
Vault-72: Assembly room
A thousand people had gathered. The announcement call had brought them together, a secular mass. The Overseer, Misato Katsuragi made her way to the podium and tapped on the microphone, causing a harsh scream of feedback through the auditorium. The crowd collectively winced, a spasm of discomfort multiplied thousandfold.
"Sorry about that folks," the Overseer spoke into the microphone, addressing the citizens of Vault-72, "haven't done this is quite a while…" The people sat respectfully, bands of blue and yellow repeating itself over and over again. "We've gathered here today because of tragedy," Misato paused giving herself a moment to think. "...Everyone here knows tragedy. We all know loss; even here, in the safety of the Vault," she addressed members of the crowd individually now.
"Mr. Pierce Faulkner lost a wife and a child last year, during an accidental fire in the mess hall," the mentioned man nodded his thanks, the confirmation that the Overseer cared. "Mrs. Kyoko Zeppelin Soryu left behind a daughter and husband, a little over ten years ago. We all mourn for them, still hold them close in our hearts." The sole redhead in the crowd tensed. "But the tragedies of our past must not affect our judgement in the present. We cannot lose sight of the future, we cannot lose hope." Misato took the microphone from its holder and began to pace the stage while speaking. "We all have our tragedies, and we, as a Vault must stand together to deal with them. Today is one such day."
The audience whispered to one another. Tragedy? What could warrant such a major gathering?
"Today is a day where we are all threatened. A day where the past has come to tear us apart," the ominous words caused more disquiet among the Vault dwellers. "My predecessor's predecessor, Overseer Gendo Ikari, contacted us earlier today; giving us an ultimatum." Out of the corner of her eye she caught a disturbance moving through the crowd, something pushing past the people to get to the stage. "Former Overseer Ikari has threatened us. Vault-72. For the last decade after his abandonment of the noble post of Overseer, he has been alive. Secretly hiding away in the Wasteland outside."
"Where is he?" the crowd parted to reveal a young boy, around fourteen years of age, nervous and sweating. "Where is my father?" his voice was strained between anxious tears and anger.
Misato beckoned him closer, parting the blue and yellow sea to allow him room to walk. "Your father is alive, somewhere in the Wasteland above us; no one can say exactly where," she took a deep breath, "which is why we have gathered today. Gendo Ikari has opened the Vault doors! Just as he did ten years ago, with stolen authorization codes from his time as an Overseer, he has opened our home to the elements, the radiation, death, and danger of the world. He has put a gun to all of our heads. Even now, dust, tainted with heavy metals, and air, dried by the furnace flames of Perdition creep into our home through the front door! The door that Gendo Ikari opened."
The boy seemed to freeze. His father had opened the Vault? His father was still alive?
Someone in the crowd shouted: "how can we get it closed?"
"We can't stand around here and do nothing!"
"Silence!" the Overseer shouted, bringing calm to the crowd once more. The crowd collectively stepped back from the boy Ikari, the boy tainted by association, the boy alone for so long now reviled. "The former Overseer has given us a choice, an offer," the crowd seemed to tense all at once. "He wants his son."
Muttering started anew. Just what did the Overseer mean?
"Vault-72! The choice is yours today. On one hand we can leave the Vault open; I assure you, we will not die. Life will change, but it will go on. We will live on. On the other we can send Gendo his son! The doors will close as soon as Shinji Ikari is gone; and our safety, our way of life is assured."
Shinji was panicking, send him? Out of the Vault? Into the Wasteland, the place of fire and brimstone; the specter haunting his nightmares. No, please no. Don't do this to me. He spun in a circle, trying to make eye contact with people circling him. No one would meet his gaze, all stared at the ground. Did they feel pity? Shame? Maybe guilt. Damning guilt.
"The choice is yours today. All those in favor?"
A thousand hands went up and a thousand voices said affirmation.
Oh please, don't do this, please please please please
The boy fell to his knees and began crying in earnest. "Don't do this! Please, I don't want to die, I don't want to go out there; I don't want to be alone!" he crawled toward a woman whose head was turned to the side. "Mrs Ackerman, I babysitted your son once, remember? It was two years ago! You said I was responsible enough because I lived alone! Please, God don't make me leave!" The woman walked away, the crowd swallowing her, not looking back. Shinji crept towards another member of the circle, this time a man. "Mr. Insecam! Look at me please!" the man didn't look up from his shoes, "I've lived next to you for years now! You've always helped me when I didn't know how to do things, why don't you care?"
Shinji stood abruptly and wiped his face clear of tears, streaking it red. "Why are are all of you voting yes? You're sending me to die out there"
i am going to die going to die going to die alone alone alone
No one wanted him. A pair of arms grabbed him from behind and began to pull him away. Shinji began to scream in earnest.
"No! I'm not going, I can't go! I have things I want to do, I'm only fourteen you can't send me off you can't you can't you can't! Somebody say something! They're going to kill me… someone please…" the crowd began to file out of the auditorium. Perhaps there was real guilt among the people of Vault-72, guilt that they were effectively sending a boy to his death. A cruel death in the middle of an April world, dried and burnt by nuclear sulphur fires. Guilt didn't matter. Guilt could be, and would be forgotten. The short memory of man, a blessing and curse all at once. Something to damn and save the human condition.
"I'm going too!" a voice, girlish and young, angry and prideful came from nearby.
Asuka Langley Soryu; fire made girlflesh spoke with fury and conviction. She had made her decision, firm and strong. Her parents followed closely behind, pleading with her not to go. That everything would be okay. That were was no need to die.
How ironic that in this world Shinji, who wanted nothing more than to be loved, to be cared for by a parent have to hear this. Asuka rejected the love of her parents on grounds that it was stifling. Shinji wanted nothing more than to be smothered.
"Don't leave Asuka, we love you!" her father, stepmother. It didn't matter who.
"If this is the marriage, we can annul the betrothal, it wasn't anything concrete anyways!"
The redhead whirled on the heel of her shoes and faced her parents, "don't you two understand anything? It's not about you selling me off to the highest bidder. It's about choice! I can't have my own fucking life here, I'm fourteen years old and you're already scheming to marry me off— I'm not a doll for you to play around with. You've been treating me that way my whole life," she spoke looking at her father directly, "I'd rather die out there than be a slave to you in here." With that she ran off toward the guards who were dragging along a still trashing Shinji.
Perhaps Asuka was being too rash in deciding. Perhaps, no certainly, she should have thought more of her future. But she didn't; children rarely do.
Something was changing.
The same day: 1:00 PM
Vault-72: Atrium hall
"I guess if we're kicking someone out, we can't really keep you in here…" Misato felt terrible, truly sympathetic to the boy and girl to be released into the world. They'd live for one, maybe two days and die; either from exposure or radiation or maybe some terrible accident with a mutated hulk of a monster. Morbid thoughts. But morbid thoughts were all she had at the moment. A way to cope with the weight of her burden. It was ultimately on her orders, her authority that these children be sent to their deaths, cruel, cruel deaths in the outside world. "What makes you want to leave anyways?" she asked the redhead.
Asuka was busy tightening a strap on the body armor she had been given. It was only out of courtesy that were be given supplies. Gendo had proven that it was possible to survive in the Wasteland; how else could he have sent the message? But Misato thought it a forgone conclusion. These children would die within the week.
"My parents," she spat out, "were planning on selling me… to Paul Allen of all people! I'm only fourteen!"
"Which is exactly why you should stay in the Vault. It's a dangerous place out there. No place at all for a little girl."
The little girl in question resented that, "you're sending him out. He's a wimp, too scared to die. He wouldn't even last an hour out there." Asuka prodded the boy with her foot. He had been knocked unconscious by a guard in his many struggles to escape back into the Vault proper. "Why not me?"
"I don't have a choice but to send Shinji out. They voted on it remember?"
Asuka laughed, a cold winter wind of rancor and incredulity, "that's just an excuse. It's your decision to send him out. You're the Overseer. You hold the axe, you pull the trigger. It's all you."
Misato bristled, a fourteen year old girl had no business being that bitter. "What else can I do then? Should I just leave the Vault open forever? Imagine how much panic that would cause, no one's even seen the outside!" she pointed at the open entrance and bleak red-brown wasteland outside; it was almost as if God had bled out and stained the world. "I wasn't lying when I said that it would change life in the Vault."
"And is your comfort, the comfort of Vault-72 worth sending this idiot here to die?"
"Yes."
Asuka smiled bitterly, "I knew you'd say that. And I'm glad you did. You're a good Overseer; but not much of a human being."
Misato handed the younger girl two backpacks full of what food and water they could be spared. "Why are you even arguing this? You said you wanted to go anyways, if it weren't for Shinji, you'd have to stay in the Vault?"
A sigh, "I don't know, I really don't." Asuka opened one of the backpacks up and frowned. Ready eat meals. Unappetizing. "You could give us some better food you know, kind of like a last meal?" she prodded the unconscious boy again, bringing a loud moan to bear. "Hey, idiot! Why don't you speak up for yourself for once?"
No response.
"If you're that convinced you're going to die, why go in the first place? Planning for the worst case scenario means you've already given up," asked Misato.
The girl shook her head, red hair swaying, "it's not like that. Just trying to make a joke, even though I don't feel too funny right now."
"Are you afraid to die?"
Multiple scoffs of varying intensity, "of course not. I'm not afraid of anything." Asuka said it so self-assuredly that Misato believed it for a moment. Only for a moment.
"...right," the Overseer snapped her fingers and guards carried Shinji to the outdoors. Asuka followed, suppressing the urge to vomit. I'm not afraid, just excited. I'm not going to die.
They were over the threshold now, the escorts scurried back into the safety of the Vault atrium, out of the dust of the world. A thin covering of dirt blown in by the whipping winds powdered the entrance of Vault-72. For the first time in eighty four years, the world under the world met the surface.
"I'm sorry I can't give you any guns. There aren't many to spare, you know," Misato apologized. Genuine.
"We'll be fine," she took a glance at Shinji, still unconscious, "or at least; I'll be fine."
The two women stared at each for a moment. Gazes steady.
"Think of your parents, Asuka. This is your last chance to come back. Don't throw away your life," good advice always falls on deaf ears.
Asuka shook her head. "Better me throw my life away than my parents fuck it up. At least it's my decision. I won't be a doll, ever."
The Overseer laughed loudly and turned around. A drink was long overdue. Several feet away from the Vault doors, she spoke without turning. "Good luck."
"Thanks." A fine goodbye.
The doors closed soon after.
Asuka turned to face the world in earnest and leaned against the Vault doors, meters of thick steel and concrete and lead, painted white with the number 72. The Wasteland for miles and miles. The afternoon sun through the clouds of ash and dust that seemed to be immortal bathed the world in cruel grey-red light. There was nothing but dust and sand, sand and dust. Empires had crumbled and man; man who had bent the world to their will had been forced into hiding through their own hubris. Asuka realized she was afraid. Very afraid.
The wind blew and the girl, feeling very small, cried.
AN: Done! Wrote this on a whim and I'm already liking it a lot. Expect this to be updated regularly for a while until I get more inspiration for my other fanfics. The story, factions, characters will be mostly original, so if that isn't your thing, I suggest you keep reading anyways.
Hope my characterizations were okay. I actually got shivers while writing the whole scene with Shinji begging the Vault not to make him leave, lol.
Thanks much.